65/365 Ladder of Humility

I knew I couldn't just talk about my thoughts on conversatio morum. That would take 15 minutes and that wasn't going to be enough. On the other hand, we got back from Leo's doctor's appointment with a diagnosis of RSV (respiratory syncytial virus) due to the recurrent ear infection and bronchiolitis. Suddenly my Sunday looked doomed--Sophia was scheduled for an Irish Dance show at a nursing home where my great-aunt lives. I would have very much liked to have gone to the show and seen her while I was there, but I was sending Mike because I had RCIA. He was going to take the kids with him and get Sophia ready alone, for the first time.

Now with a baby with RSV, well, you don't take him to a nursing home. You just don't. So now we had a choice--Sophia could bail, I could bail, or we could cut RCIA short.

I'd already failed to go to RCIA pretty much the whole year. And the whole year before that. I'd led so few catechism meetings that the candidates hardly knew who I was. I felt bad about this--but last year I had a newborn and this year I had a family schedule and a toddler. Girl scout camping, Irish dance, trips to the inlaws, sick baby, and bam. I liked Joel, the candidate from this year, although my time with him was so far only two meetings. I find converts fascinating and I knew Hildegard really liked him, too, and wanted to do the right thing.

So I wrote an email explaining my situation and frustration. I felt bad that I'd become that person. The volunteer who never does her job. I've had them in all realms of life--the parent who never brings back the stuff she volunteered to cut out for the first grade classroom. The girl scout mom who is always late picking her daughter up, doesn't get the cookie form in on time, and always hugs me to tell me what a great job I'm doing. The garden volunteer who never researches that grant. The woman on worship commission who never gets the minutes out (oh, that's me too). The computer teacher volunteer who only comes for the classes she gets along with. We all know this person. And I resent them enough that I hate it when I see myself becoming them. In my defense, I have been Peter Principled: being a mom of two was a breeze, but I have now been promoted to my level of incompetence with three kids. But I still saw the writing on the wall and I sent an email resigning from RCIA effective after Sunday (or whenever I was on the schedule already).

Fr. Miguel wrote back and asked me to reconsider once life slowed down a bit (it is St. Patrick's season after all). And maybe I can make it work. Because Saturday night, I stayed up late and really thought about Benedict's ladder of humility and conversatio morum. I was ready by Sunday morning to give it my best shot, get out of church by 11:50, and get Sophia to Nazareth House by 12:30. I was ready.